Misfit(212)
“You wanna fuckin’ tell me why the fuck I sat in fuckin’ jail a motherfuckin’ week?”
One hand on the steering wheel, Brooks pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow, driving off when the light changed. “It’s good to hear you still have a voice.”
“Don’t fuck with me,” Christopher growled, tired from the ordeal, hungry for Megan and wired from being free. “What took seven fuckin’ days, Brooks?”
Brooks’ hands shook and he clutched the steering wheel tighter. “N-n-now, Outlaw. I-I-I ran into an issue and needed to s-see to it. O-once th-that was taken c-care of, it w-was a br-breeze to get you out.”
“You a lyin’ motherfucker.” Brooks should know better than to try and play him. “You wouldn’t be in this motherfucker sweatin’ like a pig or stutterin’. I want the fuckin’ truth.”
“Outlaw, I-I swear I’ll work your case all day every day, pro bono. It was j-just a m-misunderstanding.”
Lying fucking motherfucker. He might be a dead motherfucker if he kept pissing Christopher off.
“What the fuck the misunderstandin’ had to do with?”
“Outlaw, please. Don’t hurt me.”
“It must be bad as a motherfucker if you already fuckin’ pleadin’ for your life and I ain’t even knowin’ what the fuck happened.”
Silence…and then…Fuck him. Did that motherfucker just sniffle like a bitch?
“I-I’ll t-tell you. Just d-don’t hurt me.”
If he could’ve been out sooner, the motherfucker did well to sniffle. “Depends on what fuckin’ reason you give my ass.”
If he said something he didn’t like, Christopher would give him a reason to fucking cry. Scream. Holler. Any of the above. However, assfuck was driving and if Christopher scared him too much, he’d lose fucking control of the car and crash.
“Calm the fuck down, Brooks, and talk with fuckin’ sense.”
“Can we get back to the club first?”
Seeing Megan was more important than fucking up Brooks, so he didn’t argue. “What the fuck ever.”
The rest of the ride passed in silence. The closer Christopher got to the club, the more his anticipation rose. His kids were probably asleep, but Megan should be awake.
Brooks turned off the main road and onto the dead end street where the club was located. At the gate, the headlights shone on the chrome in the parking lot and Christopher had never been so glad to see the clubhouse as he was in that moment.
Halting, Brooks rolled down his window.
Stretch leaned into the car. “Welcome home, Outlaw.”
Christopher nodded. “How Fee doin’?”
“She’s home,” Stretch answered, then stepped aside so Brooks could drive in.
He heaved a breath in relief as Brooks pulled into a parking space. Getting out, Christopher started for the door. Before he reached it, it flew open and Megan bounded out in a blur of motion, barreling into him. Automatically, he lifted her into his arms, breathing in her scent, nosing her hair. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she rained kisses on his face, ignoring his griminess. He out-smelled motherfucking Slipper.
“I have food for you,” she murmured. “Steak, potatoes, and corn.”
Just thinking of the days they’d been apart, hurt. Having her in his arms was the best feeling in the world. Being inside of her was even better. He had cum backed up to his ears, he needed to fuck her so bad. “I’ma fuck you all night. My ass starvin’ for you, baby. I gotta talk to Brooks while I eat, then we goin’ home,” he said, carrying Megan into the clubhouse where Johnnie, Mort, Cash, Val, and Digger greeted him.
The only other bitch around was Kendall, glaring at the back of Megan’s head, before transferring it to Brooks.
Christopher set Megan on her feet, stealing another kiss.
“I’ll get your plate.” Megan nuzzled against him, then nodded to Brooks. After a brief hesitation, she hugged him. “Thank you for bringing my husband home.”
“You threatened to have him killed,” Kendall snarled, “what did you expect him to do?”
Christopher stilled at Kendall’s accusation. What the fuck that meant?
“What?” Johnnie said, as clueless as Christopher.
Megan narrowed her eyes in warning at Kendall.
Sweat suddenly appeared on Brooks’ forehead. He glanced at the door. “Kendall, it’s okay.”
Ignoring Megan’s growing anger, Kendall continued. “It isn’t! The club queen can’t throw her weight around.”
“What are you talking about?” Johnnie demanded.
Ex-fucking-actly. Christopher wanted to be clued the fuck in, too. “Baby, what she mean?”